


Merci

by Seventysixtyniner



Series: Love in War [2]
Category: Dunkirk (2017)
Genre: Fluff, Gibson's name is Philippe, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Crushes, Not Beta Read, matchmaker Alex lol, thanks Aneurin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 16:12:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11786742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seventysixtyniner/pseuds/Seventysixtyniner
Summary: As if he could ever be a spy, Tommy thinks, remembering Alex's accusations.He could read the Frenchman's mind just by looking at his face. What he was reading now, though, was troubling. Tommy began to recall the faces of Englishmen at Dunkirk. They were tense, of course, but more than that they were eager to go home. What Tommy didn't think about was that while the English were leaving for home, the French were leaving it behind.





	Merci

**Author's Note:**

> This is a continuation of Comment Tu T'appelles, though the only thing necessary from that story is that Gibson's name is Léon in this series! EDIT: now it's Philippe lol if u see Léon instead of Philippe let me know!!!

Tommy falls in step with Philippe as Alex leads the way. In Alex's hand is a folded paper handed to him by their division's officer with a home address scratched onto it. As he walks, Tommy examines the town around him. They'd been billeted in houses in Dover until their next mission, a quaint coastal town not totally unlike the town of Dunkirk. Both carry the light smell of saltwater and are dotted with tourist traps and cafés. The main difference, Tommy notes, is that the serenity of this town drastically contrasts the terror he experienced in Dunkirk.

_Germans haven't touched here. Yet._

Alex halts in front of one of pastel rowhomes. It's a faint yellow color, with white shutters on all three floors. The front steps are covered in white paint that's slightly chipping, and lead the trio to a door that seems to be holding onto its hinges for dear life. As Alex raises his knuckles to knock, the door opens. The soldiers are suddenly faced with blonde hair and a red sweater.

Red also, are the blonde boy's eyes. They're puffy as well.

"You're the boy from the pleasure craft," Alex says.

"Yeah. I'm Peter." By the sound of his voice, Tommy can tell he hasn't used it in a while.

"Where's your old man?" Alex asks, and Tommy wants to kick him for being so intrusive.

Peter brings his right hand to point over his left shoulder. "In the kitchen, o'er there." As he brings his hand down, he wipes his sleeve under his nose. He then mutters something Tommy can't quite make out and brushes past them. In his hand Tommy sees a class photo.

"Peter?" Mr. Dawson appears in the hallway, drying his hands with a dishrag. After recognizing the soldiers in the doorway, he smiles and beckons for them to come in.

"You'll have to excuse him," the man says, "he's going through a tough time. There's a couch in the living room and a bed room open down the hall if you want to unpack." With that, Mr. Dawson returns to the kitchen.

 _It's odd_ , Tommy thinks. _This man already offered his own boat for the war effort and is now opening his house to strangers for the same reason._

Tommy looks over to Alex and sees him setting his backpack on the couch. Alex notices him, and gestures for him and Philippe to head to the spare room with an exaggerated wink and a chuckle.

 _Asshole_. Still, Tommy looks to Philippe and tilts his head down the hallway, telling him to follow.

When he reaches the bedroom Tommy immediately notices the Union Jack hanging on the wall and a window overlooking the sea. The bedsheets are tucked neatly across the mattress, and a worn out quilt lays on top. The only oddity, if that, is that at the head of the bed Tommy counts five pillows piled on top of each other. Next to the bed is an oak bureau, with a dozen or so picture frames. One in front catches Tommy's eye, and he walks to it and picks it up to examine it closer.

In the picture are two young boys, probably around 8 years old, standing in front of the ocean. One has bright blonde hair, the other brunette. Their eyes are practically shut from smiling so wide. Their arms are wrapped tightly around each other, and their cheeks are pressed together with their faces toward the camera. Tommy turns around with his finger pointed to the picture, intending to show Philippe, but he finds the Frenchman lost in thought.

The first thing Tommy thinks is how handsome Philippe looks in the sunlight. He's gazing through the window, almost as if he's trying to see what's across the Channel. Tommy realizes that's exactly what he's doing.

 _As if Philippe could ever be a spy_ , Tommy thinks, recalling Alex's accusations.

He could read the Frenchman's mind just by looking at his face. What he was reading now, though, was troubling. Tommy began to recall the faces of Englishmen at Dunkirk. They were tense, of course, but more than that they were eager to go home. What Tommy didn't think about was that while the English were leaving for home, the French were leaving it behind.

"Hey," Tommy says gently, as he places a hand on Philippe's shoulder to turn him away from the window. His heart drops as he sees tears welling up in the Frenchman's eyes. Immediately, Tommy wraps his arms around his shoulders and pulls him into a hug. He feels Philippe's hands on his back and his nose tucking into the crook of his neck. Philippe's grip tightens as Tommy hears a muffled sob. Tommy begins to rub circles on Philippe's shoulders, understanding how he's feeling without asking a thing.

"Oh for fuck's sake."

Tommy feels Philippe tense. In the doorway is Alex, though only Tommy can see him at the moment, as the other has his back to the door. The two break apart.

Alex then presents a book bound in dusty black leather. Its cover reads "Anglais-Français Dictionnaire" in gold.

"It was on Mr. Dawson's bookshelf. I figured with this the lovebirds could talk instead of," he waved his hand in a circle in front of him, "whatever you do now."

To Tommy's surprise, Philippe is the first to reach out and take the dictionary. He gives Alex a curt nod as he does so. Alex looks at him and then to Tommy, leaving the room with an empathetic smile and a salute.

 _Asshole_ , he thinks, again.

When he turns around he sees Philippe sitting on the bed, turning briskly through the dictionary's old, stained pages. He changes directions at least three times, and then pauses. Tommy sits next to him, studying how Philippe's eyebrows are pressing together. There's so much he could say, but Tommy wonders if any of it would be necessary. After what seems to be an hour Philippe brings his eyes to Tommy's with his mouth agape, about to speak. He then closes it however, and chooses instead to point to a spot on the page. Tommy follows his finger.

"Thank you?" Tommy asks, feeling like he's about to both laugh and cry.

Philippe nods, and Tommy feels overwhelmed. Why is the boy who saved his life twice thanking him?

 _If anyone_ , Tommy muses, _Philippe_ _should be thanking Alex for pulling him out of that Dutchman's sinking ship._

Tommy wants to take the book from Philippe's lap and find the French word for "sorry." He wants to apologize, though he's not certain why. For the pain Philippe is going through maybe, for the country across the Channel, for the war itself even. What he ultimately does is stare at his feet, trying to piece his thoughts together. He is drawn back to reality by a hand on the side of his face. Philippe's pinky is under Tommy's jawline, and his thumb lightly traces Tommy's cheekbone. Tommy smiles, brings his hand atop of Philippe's and leans into his touch.

 _God help me_ , Tommy prays as he brings his other hand behind Philippe's neck and leans forward. He sees the Frenchman close his eyes and does the same. He hears a creak and assumes it to be the bed frame. He hears another, and more following those.

 _Floorboards_ , he realizes as he retreats his hands to his knees and sits up straight. Philippe's eyes are now open and he stares at Tommy confused. An instant later, a familiar red sweater appears in the doorway.

"Hello lads," Peter says, without looking at either of them. He walks briskly to the head of the bed and grabs a pillow, pausing only when he sees the picture Tommy examined earlier.

"I can't believe he kept this, all this time," he says, holding the frame in his hand.

"Is that you and George?" Tommy asks, relieved his voice doesn't fail him.

"Yeah. I'm actually going to bring him this now," he says, holding up the pillow dangling from his fist. "He told me the hospital bed wasn't too comfortable, can you believe it?" Peter laughs breathlessly as he says it.

"Dad's got tea for you in the kitchen!" He tells the two an instant before he vanishes through the doorway again. Tommy can hear his footsteps bounding down the hallway, as well as the front door opening and slamming shut.

Tommy then turns to Philippe, who's staring at the floor. He looks terrified, clearly panicked at the thought that Peter almost caught them. Tommy leans down into his field of vision and gives him his best attempt at a reassuring smile. He's relieved when Philippe smiles back, though he's still clearly shaken.

Tommy resolves to bring his hand underneath the one Philippe is holding on his thigh and interlacing their fingers. He brings his face to Philippe's and presses his lips on his cheek. Philippe looks to him, the cheek Tommy kissed now turning pink. The Frenchman then laughs, nervously but ecstatically all the same, and Tommy's convinced he's not from France but heaven itself.

"Come on," he says, standing and leading his lover through the door.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments/kudos are always appreciated. Also let me know if you thought I killed off George LOL. He, Peter and Collins will be the focus of the next part of this series :^)).


End file.
